


Strawberries (or not everyone believes in power)

by Harryissuchalittleshit



Series: To Be Intelligent and Young and Witty in the Aftermath of War [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Character Death, Character Study, F/M, Isobel does what she needs to for her children, Mentions of Rape, Therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:28:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27237277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harryissuchalittleshit/pseuds/Harryissuchalittleshit
Summary: Power is for those who have felt weak. It's for little girls that were forced into becoming woman and boys who want to feel like men. Power is for those who grew up with little and wanted to keep everything that they had gained.Power is what men tried to hold over her for years and years and years.But what they didn't realize, was that they weren't the powerful ones in their relationship...she was. With one secret, she could bring it all crashing down, all of the structures that she had helped put into place.Power is like a strawberry, red and juicy and sweet, able to bring anyone down to their knees.
Relationships: Isobel McDougal/Others, Isobel McDougal/Robert Cartfield
Series: To Be Intelligent and Young and Witty in the Aftermath of War [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1981820





	Strawberries (or not everyone believes in power)

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story about a child who was raped and forced to grow up because of it. There is nothing graphic, but I just want to warn any readers that may be sensitive to this topic.

When Isobel MacDougal was seven years old, a boy kissed her for the first time.

He was nine, a friend of her brother’s, it had been on a dare, and Isobel kept it locked up in her heart. He wasn’t kind, but he hadn’t been mean either. It was almost sweet, almost like a tickle, something that wouldn’t have been noticed by anyone else.

She didn’t know that seven was too young to be kissed, to be touched like that.

At ten, she was raped by the same boy, he wasn’t kind, or nice, or sweet then.

~`~

Isobel MacDougal loved magic, her father was magic, even though he had left them when she was just a baby. Her mother always told her stories of her father’s magic. She told her how he turned strawberries into little birds and how he would disappear one place and appear in another.

Her mother told her stories about moving pictures and a castle and a home away from home. She told her that Isobel would one day go to school and learn magic and bring honor back to their name.

Her mother told her stories, and at eleven, they all became true.

Hogwarts was just as magnificent as the stories, her mother couldn’t do it justice. The castle was nearly as wide as it was tall, and filled with more books and quiet places than anywhere else in her world. Isobel always found a home in books, it was the one place that she could hide, the one place that she belonged.

Ever since she was little, since she was a little girl, she had wanted to see the world.

Her mother couldn’t afford to take them anywhere, the only trip they got was the one to London ever year to get her school supplies and to send her off. She was the youngest in her family, her two older brothers, just like her mother were non-magic.

They didn’t know about magic, not in the same way she lived by it. They didn’t know what it meant to be a Ravenclaw, what kind of magic knowledge was.

They didn’t know how to turn strawberries into birds, they only knew that it could be done.

~`~

Anthony Goldstein, Terry Boot, Michael Corner, Lucas Phillips, Sue Li, Lisa Turpin, Padma Patil, and Amanda Brocklehurst are her fellow housemates. The ten of them aren’t close, they’re barely friends, acquaintances in the most common term.

Anthony and Terry and Michael are close, they’re friendly and on good terms. Sue and Lisa are friendly, but that’s about that, they had known each other in Muggle primary. Padma spends more time with her twin sister Parvati and the Gryffindor’s than with any of them. And Amanda is just as isolated as Isobel.

The most they do is study together, and debate on Thursday nights as is house tradition. Ravenclaws have always shared their ideas, they also always argue their ideas. Everyone has an opinion, something that Isobel learned quickly at eleven, then again at fifteen.

At fifteen, war comes to Hogwarts.

Harry Potter becomes the discussion of debate night more than once that year, Voldemort and Death Eaters become gossip more than anything. The common room grows louder each Thursday, and Friday mornings are silent.

Anthony is still loud on Friday mornings, he knows more than he lets on, and Isobel realizes it might be time to get to know him.

~`~

Despite the war, despite the hate seeping into the halls, Hogwarts is still lively. Hogwarts is still a school, the teachers are still teaching and the students are still learning. Hogwarts is still the same castle that Isobel grew up in, became a teenager in, fell in love in.

Love is a strawberry.

It was something her mother always used to tell her when she was little.

Strawberries are resilient, they are hearty and lovely and beautiful. Strawberries come back each year, better and stronger than the year before. Strawberries are summer, fleeting and quick, the most delicious time of year.

Love blooms at Hogwarts, first with Terry and Padma and their shy careful touches; then with Sue and Lisa, sharing kisses just as they share books; and finally with Isobel and whichever boy finds her.

Love is powerful, something that Isobel always knew. Love has the _power_ to keep people in place, a _power_ she had seen used on her mother.

Isobel knows that if she was never born, then her mother never would’ve died. Isobel knows that love isn’t truly for her.

She never liked strawberries that much anyways.

~`~

The summer after she turns seventeen, Isobel goes to Amanda’s and hides. Her brothers are both long gone, both of them running away the second they could, off to somewhere they can fit in, they can belong.

Her mother is killed by Death Eaters playing Aurors.

Seventeen is too young to be an orphan, but she’s not the only one made into one. Lucas loses both of his parents hours after going on the run with his siblings; Lisa loses both her parents and her sisters and her brothers, all in a single sweep; and Terry makes himself an orphan, sending his parents away and promising to come back for them when the war is through.

They already know that some of them won’t last the war, but Terry always seemed to know more than the rest of them. Anthony claims enlightenment, he never grew up with fairytales like the rest of them. Anthony saw the signs of war, of hate and slander, long before the rest of them did.

Hogwarts becomes a warzone, all of them tiptoeing and fighting and trying to figure out how to beat Snape and the Carrows at their own stupid games. Neville Longbottom is a General, but he doesn’t have the troops and he doesn’t seem to have the knowledge to win the war.

But he knows how to win a fight.

Isobel has to admit that she’s surprised. She never took much stock of the Gryffindor’s, they’re too loud, too disorienting, too much to handle. The Hufflepuffs are the perfect foot soldiers, filing into place, quick and loyal and willing to die for the battle, not seeing the end of the war. The Slytherins don’t see war, they don’t see the obvious battles, they just take what they want.

Vincent Crabbe decides he wants her. His mouth like a bruise, his hands overwhelming and consuming, his body more than she can take.

She knows not to put up a struggle, it didn’t work at ten and it won’t work at seventeen.

He doesn’t know that she’s from a long line of magic, that her father was once a powerful Auror who went a little too mad with _power_ , that her mother killed him to save Isobel.

But Anthony does.

~`~

The day Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger walk out of the secret tunnel, Neville leading the way, Isobel knows the end is near. The three of them are supposed to be their saviors, the ones that they hoped and prayed and wished for.

Isobel only sees three teenagers the same as her, scared and tired and ready to end it all.

The war came to Hogwarts nearly three years before, but the enemy was truly at their doorsteps now. Voldemort was knocking on the door, ready to kill all of them to get to one of them.

The war knocks on their door, and Hogwarts fights back.

Isobel charges the grounds, hand in hand with Terry and Lisa, not knowing she would be their only survivor.

~`~

Isobel goes to the Ministry the day after they bury the dead.

The Gryffindors all want to take the Auror’s offers, the Hufflepuffs are split between the Ministry and St. Mungo’s, the Slytherins are all talking about coming back, and only Anthony and Michael say something about returning.

Isobel goes to the Ministry with Padma and Sue and Amanda, she takes a job in the Department of International Magical Cooperation, and she goes to America to win over a Senator.

She knows how to smile, how short to wear her dresses and skirts, how low cut to wear her shirts, she knows how to flirt, how to laugh and giggle, how to undress a man with her eyes. She knows how to get a man on her side, and she knows how to trap him.

Senator Robert Cartfield will be president one day, that much she knows, that much is easy to tell. He has a drive, a want, and the ambition to do it, he’s lawyer, serving as a judge in their Magical Congress or whatever it’s called. Isobel doesn’t need to know what it’s called to get her job done, she’s there for one thing and one thing only.

Robert has no idea what he’s getting into.

The night after she arrives in Washington D.C., she knows that her job is done. But she also knows that the Ministry wouldn’t believe her if she came back so quickly.

So she makes deals, she works in the backroom of a campaign office, she spends her weekends locked up in her hotel room with Robert and thinks about getting a flat in Washington to raise her son in. He’ll always go to Hogwarts, but it doesn’t matter.

She realizes quickly that a lot of things don’t matter. Like how Robert is married with three kids already, or that he’s more than twice her age, or that she doesn’t know how to raise a baby. Or that she’s going to go crazy with a baby to care for.

When she finally returns to the Ministry, she’s seven months along and knows that everyone she works with thinks the worse of her. She’s young, she’s unwed, and she’s pregnant.

They don’t know what has happened to her, what the war did to her, or what boys and men years older than her have always done to her.

She more than just a strawberry blonde in a tight dress with red lips and flirty eyes.

~`~

Lucas is Robert’s son, neither of them can deny it, but it’s easy to hide. Terrance is his son too, but she has the French ambassador in her pocket and a cottage in South France to tide her over. Lisa is his daughter, but the Brazilian Minister of Defense adores her as if she really is his third daughter.

Her three children live in London, with nannies that she doesn’t have to pay for, in a flat she doesn’t have to pay for. She has a house in Washington D.C., a cottage in France, and an amazing condo in Rio de Janeiro. She has unlimited spend accounts funded by men who don’t know anything. She doesn’t have to worry about her children being without anything.

She has the _power_ in every relationship, all thanks to a smile and a giggle and knowing when to open her legs.

But she doesn’t have what she truly wants.

Robert goes from being a Senator to a Governor to finally the President of MACUSA. He doesn’t know that it was because of her work, her playing with the polls, her bringing in funding at the right time, and her bribing and hushing reporters.

Robert is a figurehead, pretending to a crowd of people that don’t know better.

Isobel does what she’s meant to do, hiding in the shadows and pulling the strings that work for her.

Until it doesn’t.

~`~

“Anthony,” said Isobel quietly, walking into his small office on the fifth floor of St. Mungo’s. “Can I talk to you?”

“Sure,” said Anthony, standing up from behind his desk and leading Isobel over to an armchair. “What about?”

“I’m pregnant, again,” said Isobel, saying the words out loud for the first time since she found out. “And I don’t want to keep the baby.”

It wasn’t Robert’s baby, it was the Polish Ambassador’s baby, a man with a ruthless smile and lusty eyes and hands that trapped her. It was a baby that she didn’t want, couldn’t make herself love.

“I talked to Avery too,” said Isobel, though that had been more in passing with Anthony’s husband. She liked Avery, he was kind and funny, and he adored Anthony. He also knew more languages than anyone else she knew, even more than Anthony.

“Are you offering me your…your baby?” asked Anthony, and Isobel knew that she lost him.

“I can’t make myself keep this one,” she whispered, touching the slight bulge of her stomach. She was farther along than she wanted to admit, far enough that everything felt uncomfortable.

Anthony didn’t say anything, he just stood up and walked to his office door, flipping on the switch to the small device on the window and closing the blinds. He sat back down across from Isobel, a pen and pad of paper in his hands.

“Start at the beginning,” said Anthony gently. Isobel knew that he heard stories growing up about danger, about angry men that hurt and hurt and hurt, about hopelessness and death. Isobel knew that Anthony was good at keeping secrets, good at hiding and listening and keeping his judgement to himself. “Or start where you can.”

“Anthony,” said Isobel, meeting his eyes, always curious, always wanting to know the secrets of the world. “I don’t know…”

“Start wherever you’re comfortable,” said Anthony, his voice even and calm, ever the Healer.

Isobel spent her days with politicians who lied and juggled and slipped out of their responsibilities easily. She spent her time hidden behind doors and locked away in offices and hotel rooms. She was meant to be hidden away.

“When I was seven Benji Fennway, my brother’s best friend kissed me. He was nine, and nice enough, but even then I knew it was weird,” said Isobel, rubbing her hand over the mark on her hand. A scar given to her by a man who thought he could own her. “And when I was ten and he had just turned thirteen, he…he raped me.”

She looked up, but Anthony’s face didn’t show any sympathy, it didn’t show any emotion at all. He was silent as she looked up at him, his pen posed over the page, waiting for her to continue.

“It was the first time, but it didn’t stop after that,” said Isobel, rubbing the mark on her hand harder. “Even at Hogwarts.”

She looked up again, but Anthony was writing now, his expression still blank. She waited for him to say something, anything, to justify her giving up this baby. But Anthony wasn’t like that, he was quiet and calm, he never judged he always just listened.

“I remember after the first time, I ran outside to my mum’s strawberry garden. I sat in the dirt and pulled every single plant out of the ground, because I was so angry with her,” whispered Isobel, now she was pinching her hand, hard enough to bruise, hard enough to keep her from spiraling. “She should’ve been home, she should’ve been protecting me.”

“What about your dad?” asked Anthony, his voice like a bell in the silence of Isobel’s mind. “Where was he during all of this?”

“Gone, he left mum after I was born, he went mad and killed a bunch of people awaiting trial. He was an Auror, he was a powerful man,” explained Isobel, thankful for the sudden distraction.

“And what about the men you sleep with? What is Lucas’ father like? Or Terry’s? Or Lisa’s?”

“He’s the Magical President of the United States,” said Isobel, resting her hands on her stomach. “He was just a Senator when we met, I had Lucas two months after he won his election. Terry was born four months after he won his Governor seat. Then Lisa was born the month before his first Inauguration. He’ll be done after this term.”

“He’s like the Minster of Magic right?” asked Anthony, meeting her eyes for just a moment before turning back to his notes.

“Yes, just American. He was the first after Vincent.”

Vincent Crabbe and his hands that trapped her and kept her in one place. His voice that made her skin crawl and made her want to scream. He had wanted her to scream and struggle, she could tell.

The only problem was, she had known by then that it didn’t help, didn’t make a difference.

“How much older is he then you?”

“He was thirty-six when we met, I was eighteen, it was my first assignment after joining the Ministry,” said Isobel, suddenly feeling the weight of the ring on her hand, the gift he had given her after Lucas was born. “I know what you’re thinking Anthony, that because I never knew my father I turned to older men to fill that role in my life, but you’re wrong. I know that he loves me, I know that he wants me, he gives us the world Anthony.”

“Then why are you crying in my office Isobel?” snapped Anthony, though none of his anger touched his eyes. “Why are you trying to give me his baby? Why aren’t you married to him right now, living in America with him?”

“Because I can’t love him like that.”

~`~

Her body is changing in a familiar way, just as it did the three times before with each of her other children. This time though, the baby doesn’t feel like hers, it feels like a completely different being inside of her, as if it doesn’t belong to her.

She feels more at peace though, spending more time in London, working and cheating away Robert’s money. He pays for everything, her own money is funneled away into a private account in a country that she only visits maybe once a year, if at all.

She starts to make a change, all of the properties she puts into her children’s names. Lucas gets Washington D.C., Terry gets France, and Lisa gets Brazil. It’s _easy_ to fool men who think that they own her.

The day after she gives birth to her third son, to Anthony and Avery’s baby, she has one of her moles in Washington spread her story. She can disappear anywhere in the world now, years of traveling, years of connections she made, friends she found, people that knew what she could do and how well she could do it.

The world implodes when the news gets out that President Robert Cartfield has three illegitimate children with an Ambassador from the English Ministry of Magic. Isobel gets to hide away on maternity leave, she gets to take her children with her to Anthony’s farm, she gets to hide in the strawberry field and find peace.

She gets to teach both of these strange and amazing and lovely men in her life how to raise a baby, while a world away, three different men scream and fight over children they don’t really know.

_Power_ is only in the hands of the believer.

Isobel has never believed in anything beyond her own will.

But out in the strawberry field, she finds peace with a higher will, and she knows that she can move on.


End file.
